Every Traveled Road
by Calamity Red
Summary: Every once in awhile he felt the need to travel and meet his people. /America as seen from his people and how he sees them along the road of his nation./
1. Nevada

Wilmer's gas station sat north of Las Vegas and Henderson on 95 with only orange dirt seen for miles. Traffic had slowed through here in recent years due the even slower economy, nobody headed to Vegas anymore because nobody had the money to do it. So he spent much of his time now sitting idly by the cash register watching the regulars come in. They sat and talked with as much enthusiasm as elders do and occasionally Wilmer would join if the subject became interesting enough.

It was fairly early in the morning when he saw the motorcycle over the distance running straight out of Vegas, or Henderson he assumed. The third customer today he figured not counting his usuals. The biker, he named for the moment, slowed and turned causally into the station without helmet or goggles with windswept blond hair. Everything on the man had to have been older then himself, from his beaten leather jacket to the worn steel tip boots from more then fifty years ago. The biker jumped from his seat and strolled in just as casually as he rode in.

With a ring of the door he entered with Tom Rodney and Barry Purdy turning from their banter. Waking past the two old men with a friendly nod the biker went straight toward the register pulling forth an old wallet in match the rest of his attire. Wilmer smiled lightly as the biker spoke with a strange tinge of British and western slur.

"How much for twenty gallons and…"

He looked around before picking up a coke, oddly enough one that was 'classically bottled' in retro, though he should have expected it given the patrons consistent look.

"Coke sir?"

"Fifty four sixty son. If I may, where you headin?"

"Just around the states."

Wilmer chuckled. "Just around? Sounded like you've done it before."

"You could say that." The biker replied smiling like a goof.

Perhaps there was more to this fellow then he thought. As Wilmer cashed in a few twenties he noticed the biker wiping his glasses clean of dust and grime.

"Tough riding without goggles."

"Nay, besides you can't feel the winds of freedom like that." Replying with much enthusiasm and thumbs up.

Wilmer laughed again slowing shaking his head. He was a goof in mind too.

"Here's your change back, good luck with your trip."

"Thanks!" The biker said cheerfully as if he didn't expect such a comment.

"By the way son, just curious, what's you name?" Wilmer managed to ask as the biker stepped outside.

"Alfred, Alfred Jones."

And with that the biker went outside and filled his tank before hoping on his bike and riding right up 95 into the great northwest.

"Sure was a unsual fellow wasn't he Wilmer." Said Tom as he turned back watching Alfred ride across the endless Nevadan horizon.

"Suppose so, but he seemed genuine you know."

"Genuine Wilmer?" Said Barry joining the conversation.

"Yea, genuinely….American."

The three laughed hardly.


	2. California

(Thanks to chrono-contract and just another fma fan for the reviews. And a special thanks to fma fan for pointing out the grammar issue. ~Sincerely CalamityRED)

In-between 80 and 5 lies part of wine country away from the hustling streets of southern California. It holds a relative peaceful feeling for those living there and those who may travel thought its winding roads. But today wasn't filled of calmness and rather filled with annoyance. Jessica Barker had started her day like every other weekday getting ready and heading, a few minutes early she might add, to the local junior college. Fate on the other hand decided much differently for this morning.

Sure this predicament was partly her fault, maybe forty-sixty, but why today of all days she mused. Jessica admittedly couldn't afford a nice car or for that matter a durable one with the fees of college eating much of her low budget. So hence her current predicament with an old-rusted-bucket-a-bolts-and-crap stuck and stalled on a back route to college.

With an angered grunt she desperately tried pushing the car up street for help. After a few tries she gave up when no distance was gained form such work. Then as she slumped next to her broken down car when the sputter of an old motorcycle that had gone unnoticed came to a stop. Jessica's eyes narrowed at the rider who happen to park along side her.

"Need a hand ma'am?" questioned the rider.

"I need a better car." She answered with a grunted sigh.

"Well I can't help with that but let me take a look under the hood."

She raised an eyebrow at the stranger as he jumped from his bike and took to looking under the hood without waiting for an answer on her part. Leaning over she got a better look at the man as he looked over the engine with ruffled blond hair. His gloved hands glided over the engine carefully tapping each piece finally resting at one spot out of her view.

"Lemmie guess, I need to bust a grant out for a part." She said with a forced laugh.

"Nope, just a hand cloth should cover it." He replied with smile.

"Huh?" Jessica managed as the biker took to wiping something off from within the engine with a beaten denim cloth.

"Dirty airflow sensor, other then that its fine."

She sighed with content as he approached her smiling still and wiping his gloves off on the said denim cloth.

"How did…?"

"Cars, bikes, pretty much anything with a motor I've learned to take apart. Guess it's some sort of hobby."

"Then why did you help?"

"Good Samaritan of course!" the biker exclaimed

"Good….Samaritan?" Jessica responded with a perplexed look.

"Yea you know, 'Helping you fellow man' story from the Bible, besides it's one of my laws." He pointed toward himself with his thumb

"Your law?"

"I mean a law!" He corrected himself quickly

"Riiiiiiight." She muttered at the strange biker

"Anyhow be sure to check that every once in a while!" He said while making way toward his bike

"Yea and thanks…"

"No problem! And good luck on that test!"

She waved him off as he rode away accompanied by the sputter of his engine. He was a strange fellow alright Jessica thought, nice but strange.

"Wait….how he know about…." She sighed at her sudden outburst of question.

The man was strange indeed.


	3. South Carolina

(Thanks again to chrono-contract and just another fma fan, and thanks to Welcomer, iKiller-Panda, and A New Dreamer for the reviews. As for ideas and states, I'm welcome to ideas but the whole thing is based on coin flips, no srsly it is.

Sincerely calamityRED~)

How he ended up eating a free breakfast was beyond Fredrick Ernst.

…

It wasn't unusual for Fredrick to eat at Side-Road Diner outside Charleston, a morning stop for him, but in recent months his luck and wallet were down. For you see Fredrick was a realtor, not a great job to have during economic downturn. He mused over his third coffee cup unfolding and refolding his cell-phone in hopes someone would call, an offer, a seller, something.

But alas his phone didn't ring and coffee grew cold as he dwelt in self doubt. Admittedly he wasn't the best communicator, a skill that comes in handy in selling homes; he was quite an introvert really.

His stomach growled once more as he took a sip of cold coffee to drown the sound out. Every penny counted during these days so he opted to skip breakfast with its unsatisfying results.

"Hey, you alright?" Asked a stranger sitting to his right.

"Hmmm?" Fredrick replied half awake despite his coffee binge.

"You look tired and hungry; let me treat to breakfast alright?" Spoke the blond stranger, almost demanding that he be taken up on his offer like he was some sort of champion of the tired and weak.

"Uh, sure." He said slightly better then before.

"So what's a real estate agent doing here?"

"How did you…?"

"Name tag 'Fredrick'." He replied with a smile behind his glasses glare. Fredrick smirked back shaking his head. This guy was a character, somehow he knew it having only known him for a few moments.

"Of course."

"Speaking of, pick a course!" The stranger exclaimed waving around a laminated menu. The diner did serve your typical diner foods, but because they close proximity to the ocean they sometimes had a seafood catch.

"Carolina bounty doesn't sound half bad." He noted skimming done the menu leaving Fredrick watching to act.

"'Sure, I'm open for anything, especially if it's free" he said with a full smile. That guy held an aura too, he supposed. That and being quite a character, he noted, as the blond stranger waved for service quite energetically.

After that the words flew along with time as Fredrick loosened his reclusive tendencies and began speaking freely with, he learned, Alfred who was traveling by bike across the states. He spoke of his rather dumpster luck with selling homes and how folks didn't seem to want to buy, course Alfred gave pointers on the subject, a subject Fredrick was sure he had no business or knowledge in. But he listened to whatever advice Alfred gave advice that seemed far too wise for him to have gather in the young blond's life.

…

"But I'm telling ya, that's all there is to it Fredrick!" Alfred said with enthusiasm chewing on the last bit of his unbreakfast food of hamburger for God knows why Fredrick thought.

"You sure Alfred?" He said after hearing advice for the past hour.

"Course!" He said footing a rather large tip on the diner counter with helmet in hand.

"Hey next time you in town, come on by and I'll treat you the breakfast alright?" Fredrick said lifting his drink to Alfred.

"Will do if I'm around." He nodded back with a smile before taking leave.

"Quite a character huh?" Said the waitress standing behind the diner island.

"Sure is." Fredrick answered back with a laugh. Then the strangest thing happen as Alfred rode off, his phone rang with buyers, strange stuff Fredrick thought, strange stuff indeed.


	4. Tennesse

(Thanks to chrono-contract, just another fma fan, A Midsummer Night's Dream, LadyAngeliTheSunGeneral, and kenpachi-sama for the reviews, it's the payoff lol. And a special thanks to Illiteracy for pointing out my mistakes.

As for this chapter, I tried something different as suggested by Illiteracy. Turns out writing for Alfred is harder then I thought, going through two scraps before getting here. Hope it's enjoyed and feed-back is welcomed, perhaps I'll write from different views each time. Till next chapter!

Sincerely calamityRED~)

The rain came by the bucket and pail load putting a stop on any plans of driving any distance for Alfred. It was certainly times like this he rather opted for a closed in vehicle rather than a motorcycle. With a mutter being muted by constant rain he kept riding hoping to find a hotel soon before he ended up ill. In the distance was the muddied glow of Memphis and promptly his destination is the weather had permitted.

It had become a stop that he enjoyed, the River City and the sweet soul music that fluttered the venues and bars. Alfred, even if other countries tented to disagree, did in fact have taste in music. Music that was uniquely his, those being the Blues, Soul, and Swing, are what stood out to him as great music.

The patter of rain continued relentlessly as his mind played out hymns and organ tunes to cheer his rain soaked self. Less than a mile ahead a sign of vacancy flicker in neon pink in the pre-darkened day. The building was seemed normal, too normal to be a hotel or motel.

'_Perhaps_,' He thought, '_it is one of the bed and breakfast inns_.'

A bed and any food sounded quite welcoming to the rain drenched America. So with some disappointment of time lost he parked for the day. Grabbing up his limited belongs Alfred went inside shaking his wet mane prior to entering. Upon entering he heard the swell sounds of Soul music lifting his spirits up.

Suddenly a voice, aged but still full of life echoed from down the hall.

"Come on in from the rain son."

"Yes sir." Replied Alfred nodding even though the speaker couldn't see.

Walking the halls length and taking a left he was met with an elderly bearded black man with large grin and a towel draped over his shoulder.

"Seemed like a good idea."

"Thanks." Said the America with a bashful grin and nod

"Why don't you take a seat son, you look pretty tired."

"Definitely, been riding all day, or most of it."

"Memphis rain will catch you off guard in a snap. Care for a cup of coffee, pot's fresh." The older gentlemen said as he wondered off to the back.

"Yes please and I really should know better given how many times I have been here." Alfred said while drying off and wiping his glasses clean.

"Frequent visitor?" echoed from a back room

"Yes-sir."

"Business? And how do you like your Joe?"

"As is and here for…vacation."

"Ah." The older man uttered bringing two cups with trails of steam from their tops.

Taking in a whiff of the warming coffee Alfred relaxed slightly more. He was glad to see such hospitality now a days. It became seemingly less and less in the 'me' society. Then during his thoughts he realized he hadn't properly introduced himself."

"Forgive me, the name's Alfred." He sputtered out while holding his free hand forward.

"It's fine son, we're all neighbors here." He said with a grin behind the coffee's steam. "Just call me 'Old-Man' Harold."

"Alright 'Old-Man' Harold." replied Alfred lifting his cup as a toast with a brighten grin. "To neighbors."

"To neighbors." Joined in Old-Man Harold with an equally bright smile.


End file.
